Mutt
by normansgirl
Summary: Daryl goes hunting one morning to get away from the group when he sits down to relax and realizes he isn't alone.


Mutt

**This is a short one shot about Daryl. I got the idea after reading an interview of Norman Reedus saying he wanted his character to have a dog on the show. This is my first fanfiction ever so R&R.**

"Relax man, I'll be back 'fore dark," Daryl said as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder and started walking over to the door leading out of the cell block.

Rick stepped in front of Daryl, "Fine go ahead, I can't stop you. But Daryl, be careful. We still don't know where the governor is and after everything that happened with him, after Merle….I don't want you out there too long."

Daryl scoffed, "If you're worryin about me taken off don't. Like I said I'll be back 'fore dark." Daryl pushed past Rick before he could say anything else and headed outside to his motorcycle.

Xxxxxx

Daryl cut the motor off and started walking into the woods. He didn't come out here to hunt; he just needed some time alone to think. After everything that happened with the governor and him disappearing and after just losing Merle, it would be good for the hunter to get away from the group for a few hours. All he had was the wind and his thoughts to keep him company. Daryl had been walking for about an hour, and stopped walking only long enough to shoot a squirrel out of a tree and walk over to retrieve his prize. He walked about another thirty minutes going deeper and deeper into the woods. He finally decided to stop for a while and eat the squirrel. It was a nice quiet day and he sat down in the shade of a tree leaning against the bark. He loved being in the woods, it was always so quiet, peaceful, and it was the only place he could go to be alone and think.

He started cutting into the squirrel, but his peaceful moment didn't last long. He looked up when he heard the crunch of leaves not thirty feet away. "Can I not have five minutes of peace?" Daryl thought aloud as he got up to retrieve his crossbow that was leaning on a nearby tree. He brought his crossbow up to his face and started looking around him, waiting for a pale and bloody geek to come out from behind a tree and attack him. Daryl started listening for the moans of a walker but could only hear the soft sound of leaves crunching as something moved closer to his resting place.

"Where are you," Daryl asked himself as he turned around again, confused when he thought he heard a pained whine. The crunching noise stopped maybe ten feet away from Daryl still hidden in the brush. The hunter turned to face the creature and was greeted by a low growl and a large dog stepping out into the open.

Daryl sighed and lowered his crossbow. "Hey Mutt, you scared me."

The dog stopped growling and looked up into Daryl's face when he heard Daryl speak to him, then quickly looked back down and growled again. The dog had splotches of black and brown and his chest was white except for an old scar that ran across it. He was obviously weak and thin from lack of food. He was hostel and scared, but he put up a good act and could obviously handle his own. He had a torn ear, broken tail, and dried blood that had run down his left front leg. The dog was limping, must have hurt it running and tripped.

The dog never took his eyes off Daryl but refused to look him in the eye. Daryl figured the dog probably wouldn't attack him [probably too scared to get close enough}. So Daryl sat back down and leaned against his tree, crossbow in easy reach back under the tree next to him, and he pulled the carcass back into his lap. Daryl started cutting open the squirrel again with the dog watching his every move. The dog had sat down too, only a couple feet away from Daryl to watch him. By now the dog had stopped growling and was just studying the hunter trying to decide if the redneck was a treat or not.

Daryl took the first bite of his capture and was interrupted mid chew by another whine. He looked up to see the dog staring down at the meat and whine again. Daryl thought for a moment and decided to take pity on the damn thing because he just looked pathetic. "Hey if you want food you gotta come and ask for it Mutt."

The dog looked back up into Daryl's face as the hunter spoke to him. He started looking around the woods as if he was checking to see if anyone could see them. The dog looked at the meat then back into Daryl's face wondering if he could trust the man. The dog thought better of it and looked down. He laid down with a huff as if to say yeah right, remembering he is supposed to act mean towards the hunter.

"Fine, starve, that'll show me. You can just lay down there and watch me eat this delicious little squirrel." Daryl was actually trying to taunt the dog even though he knew the dog didn't understand. "You know, squirrels don' have a lot of meat on 'em," Daryl commented, "Might have to shoot another one." The dog looked up listening to ever word the hunter said. "Alrigh' Mutt come on, I know you're hungry and I ain't gonna hurt ya. I ain't one of them."

The dog must have been hungry because as much as he didn't want to he slowly got to his feet. He started walking, moving hesitantly towards the man with food. Daryl cut a piece of meat and held it out as an offering. The dog took a few steps at a time slowly closing the gap between him and the hunter. The dog wouldn't look at Daryl as he walked over to him; he just kept looking around at the trees as if he would get caught.

The dog stopped right next to the hunter still looking down, not sure if he should take the food. "Come on Mutt, you're here, might as well take it." The dog leaned in and took the meat still not sure of himself. As the dog ate the hunter studied him more closely. Daryl cut more meat for the patiently waiting dog; obviously given up and just wanting to eat, though he still wouldn't meet the hunters gaze. Daryl noticed the dog had four long scars across his back that matched the one on his chest and it looked like his back leg was broken.

But the dog kept eating thankful for the food and slowly getting used to Daryl. Daryl knew better than to say this dog had been attacked by walkers. This dog had been hurt before the world went to shit. It looked like he had once been whipped, had once been….. "Beaten," Daryl said aloud. He felt the dog's pain. The dog knew Daryl wasn't one of the dead, but the Mutt was probably just as afraid of people.

Daryl slowly raised his hand to scratch the dog's ear, but as soon as he touched him the dog let out a fierce snarl, turned, and sank his teeth into the hunter's wrist. "Ow, damn it, let go," Daryl snarled back at the dog, pulling his hand away, and for the first time since they found each other the dog looked Daryl in the eye. They just stared into each other's eyes and the dog looked like he immediately regretted biting the man. "I ain't gonna hurt ya Mutt. Just let me look," Daryl whispered softly and reached up to scratch the dog again. The dog was tense but let Daryl pet him. Daryl fed the dog again, watching the dog's muscle's slowly relax under his touch.

The two sat under the shade of the tree, sharing the squirrel, and just enjoying each other's company. For the first time in a long time Daryl actually let his guard down and just enjoyed sitting with the stray. "You ain't so bad are you Mutt?"

Daryl looked up into the sky and saw the sun was to the east. He had been out here for about three hours and since he wasn't really planning on hunting anymore, he decided to head back to the prison. Daryl got up and grabbed his crossbow. He started walking back to his bike only to look down to see the dog jump up and follow him. "What do you think your doin?" Daryl asked slightly annoyed. The dog looked up but continued to walk keeping Daryl's pace. Daryl stopped to glare at the stray. "If you think you comin back with me you can forget it." The dog had stopped too and looked up to meet Daryl's gaze, waiting for the redneck to make a move.

"Go on get outta here," Daryl said as he threw his hand out in front of him over the dog. The dog flinched, crouched down, and growled out of instinct expecting to get hit. Daryl saw this and knew he had made a mistake. "Sorry Mutt, I didn't mean it like that. I jus don't think you need to come back with me," and with that Daryl turned and started walking again. The dog recovered and went back to his place beside the hunter. "Fine, but if you ain't quick enough I'm shuttin the door on you."

Daryl walked all the way back to his bike with the dog trotting at his heels. He climbed on his bike and started the motor. "Try to keep up," and with that Daryl speed off back to the prison with the dog running by his side. For a dog with a limp he was surprisingly fast and never missed a beat. Daryl speed up and the dog just continued to run alongside his bike, racing past the outer fence and up the road to the prison.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two months later and Daryl and the dog became inseparable. The dog's leg eventually healed and the two spent almost everyday hunting and every night on watch together. The dog slept on the perch with Daryl away from the group and followed him everywhere he went. While most of the group didn't really want the dog around, it being another mouth to feed and could cause problems with barking and drawing in walkers, the group let him stay deciding it would be good for Daryl. Even though the dog wasn't really comfortable around people, with Daryl by him, he eventually learned to live with them and became a valuable and well-loved member of the group.

The End.


End file.
